


itch (you can't scratch)

by charcoalscenes



Series: what you haven't had before [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Dark Fantasy, Established Relationship, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29637237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalscenes/pseuds/charcoalscenes
Summary: "humans do this all the time, clamp their teeth on their partners’ necks."(A brief moment of intimacy set after "play (see-through blinds)." Posted to AO3 on February 2021 with a Backdated Publication date from when it posted to Tumblr.)
Relationships: No. 96 Black Mist | Dark Mist/Tsukumo Yuuma
Series: what you haven't had before [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/322730





	itch (you can't scratch)

**Author's Note:**

> Actual publication into AO3 is on February 2021. This is an old piece I shared on Tumblr and wanted to post using this site's Backdate feature. Enjoy!

you’re almost tempted to ask astral hirself.  _ what do you think his flesh tastes like? _ do you think all humans taste the same? cattle and other animals vary in flavor – depending on what techniques are used, you’ve learned. some humans believe that even how the animal was treated when it was alive, how it lived, influences how it tastes. maybe creatures that live happily are somehow more delectable dead. 

you don’t ask hir. ze would destroy you on the spot, never mind that the hypocrite would only wonder the same thing after you’re gone – despite how  _ dangerous _ the thought apparently is, despite how astral might be the only other being around to share your curiosities, despite that (however you might hate to think it) astral has a better chance of sating  _ that _ wonder in particular than you do. 

then again, with time, maybe you’ll have your chance. 

you cannot bite yuma as hard as you want to. you can’t even dig your hands into him so that he can wear reminders of you on his wrists like bracelets, so that he’d wake up having to decide between hiding his throat or letting the whole world see how well you’d brand him. hurting one hair on his head would alert astral through their link and have your leader come running to his rescue like a missile, and you don’t know if ze’d forgive you enough eventually that’d you’d be set free or resurrected one more embarrassing time. 

you cannot do over half the things you would otherwise do to yuma unless your boy let’s you, unless he stays docile and calm and willing not just in mind but in body. and you’ll never admit that it hurts that the latter may never be possible even in the face of how increasingly likely it is that, one day, the former might. 

months after your first time together, he lets you inside; just a piece of you, and already he seems full. at this point, maybe astral would feel content. you wish you can slide more of yourself in; wonder if he can survive how deep you want to move from the openings on both ends of his body. you wonder if he’d push you away if you admitted this, how he might feel  _ then _ , but it’s another variation you’ll never get to find out unless you’re willing to face certain and permanent oblivion. 

but you’re starting to suspect that he likes it, in some way; that the part of him that wishes he can give all of that to you is growing more and more. 

you don’t ask him if he’d still be willing to adore you if he knew that sometimes you still dream of him as meat, live and raw and quivering like the flustered mess he is now beneath you. 

you test his limit anyway, at no great risk. humans do this all the time, clamp their teeth on their partners’ necks. you don’t have to be as careful as when his pulse is just under your tongue, but you close in on him slowly anyway; plenty of time for him to know what you’re doing, plenty of time for him to get accustomed, to allow it, and he does. 

what does yuma taste like underneath, if you can slice a slab from his waist or his thigh or his arm? it wouldn’t be the same as it tastes now, with sweat and the little blood that leaks out like copper, and another flavor so faint you doubt a human could detect it. yuma keens and mewls for you like this, grips at your hair and skin and breathes hard enough that you feel yourself moving up and down with his chest. the reaction is what makes half the taste, and if that’s so, then maybe yuma  _ would _ be delicious on the inside too – a full and vibrant life mixed with the sensations and emotions that you would inspire in him should you ever rip him apart and feast. 

when you lick at the light scar you caused, he huffs, “what was that for?” 

the near-composure is admirable, but you keep that thought quiet. “i want to taste you.” it’s honest and doesn’t hold a candle to what you really mean. “i’m teasing myself,” you don’t say.  _ with barely a nip of what i can’t have. _


End file.
